* The guy quoted in the latest issue of California Home & Design about his oceanfront house: “I wasn’t even in the market for a home,” said Greg who was single at the time. “I had just renovated my penthouse and was happy with the results.”
* To quote the much-missed Chandler Muriel Bing: “My wallet’s too small for my fifties, and my diamond shoes are too tight!”
* My levels of guilt, which are reaching new and frightening dimensions. Latest trigger: NPR. When the NPR fundraising pitches come on, I am always driving, but then I forget to call and pledge once I’m off the road. Then I hear the pitch again, and the guilt rises. “Don’t you WANT to listen to our VERY VERY IMPORTANT STORIES, you freeloading jerk?” YES, YES, I really do. But do I remember to call once I’m off the road again? NO.
* My awkward social skills. The only non-family members I can converse with properly are Bodega Bliss and Stumbling Gracefully. Is it because I don’t work in an office? I feel like I miss out on social cues altogether and today at Jamba Juice I put in my order like a robot, with no inflection and I think the clerk thought I was AI. I can’t come up with any banter, even boring banter. It comes out like this: “Hello, man at counter. Sunny weather we are having or not? #jambajuiceisrad!”
* My realization that Zooey Deschanel is probably this neurotic too, but she is so charming. Maybe I need more Siri in my life.
* My realization watching Atonement: I will never write anything better than Briony’s play. Which she writes when she’s thirteen!
* Still David Guetta. Still “Sexy Chick.” Darcy STILL has that song in his head two and a half years later. I have even tried to play that Goyte earworm tune for him: no go.
* That really horrific looking movie adaptation of the book What to Expect When You Are Expecting. (Which, really? What’s next? Personal Finance for Dummies?) Tagline: “There’s No Time To Pull Out Now.” GROSS.